


Hitchhiking with Hook

by obisgirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 16:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obisgirl/pseuds/obisgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hook escapes from the janitor's closet or wherever it was Emma left him and catches a ride back to Storybrooke with a familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hitchhiking with Hook

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Once Upon a Time characters are property of Disney and Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis. This fanfic is for pure entertainment.  
> A/N: I blame the crew of Once Podcast for this. This fic is their fault. Don't Take Your Love Away From Me by Vast.

Hook is tired, tired of getting knocked out, bound up and continually left behind. So when he finally regains consciousness and finds himself, bound and locked in a random storage room, he remembers before stabbing his crocodile with his hook, he shoved Emma aside.

 _Swan_ , he curses.

He looks down at his hands and of course, his hook is missing and then he spots something shiny out of the corner of his eye and grins.

All he needs is for someone to let him out and then he can finish off his crocodile.

~~

It doesn't matter how he gets out but once he does, Hook grabs his hook and runs out of the janitor's closet and back to the spot he stabbed his crocodile.

But his crocodile is gone, so he makes a detour to the harbor, anxious to get back on board the Roger. Emma would not screw him over a second time, he tells himself but when he gets to the dock where the Roger is supposed to be and finds, that's it not, Hook rams his hooked hand into a nearby crate.

“Bloody Swan!” he cries, “You knock me out, chain me up and steal my ship,”

What's a pirate to do?

~~

It didn't take him long to get from Storybrooke to this island of Manhattan but without his ship to take him back, Hook has to resort to other means. His charms have always worked to get him what he wants but he quickly realizes, it'll be very difficult woe a random stranger into giving a man with one hook for a hand a lift.

But he's not about to part with his hook, so whoever helps him will have to be very brave.

He ventures away from the dock and scans his surroundings for those horseless carriages he came upon before and spots a stranger getting into a car. Hook smiles and walks over to said stranger, gently tapping her on the shoulder with his good hand. The woman turns around and nearly jumps, startled by his appearance but quickly regains her composure.

“Hello there lass,” he starts, “There's somewhere I need to be; care to help out a stranger?” He even puts on a devilish grin.

The woman looks down at his hooked hand and gulps and then back to him. Hook glances down at his hand and he shrugs. “Fishing accident,” he assures her.

The woman is still horrified.

“Look, I swear on my honor as a pi – gentleman, I will not harm you but I do need help getting somewhere and your – carriage behind you is exactly what I need,”

The woman frowns, turns and looks at her car. “You mean my car, so this is a car-jacking?” she cries, still very confused.

“My name is not Jack love but yes, I do need your car,” Hook continues.

The woman shakes her head, fiddles around for her keys and opens up the car, scooting into the driver's seat and Hook hops in. “Close that door,” she says and Hook shuts it.

“So, what is this about?” she asks, somewhat calmer than earlier.

Hook sighs, leaning back in the leather chair. “Well, it all started with a crocodile. He's the one who stole my hand, you see; in retribution for running away with his wife (who didn't love him at all). But I'm not a villain, I don't consider myself one anyway. I'm a man who's been wronged and I'm here to get my retribution against my crocodile,” he seethes.

“No, I mean, where are we going? Where do you want me to take you?” she corrects, side-glancing at him as she starts the engine and gestures for him to put on his seat belt.

“Oh, there's a small town in Maine, it's called Storybrooke,” he muses, extending the seatbelt from his shoulder and clicking it with the other part.

The woman shrugs, puts on her own seat belt, takes the car out of park, sets the gear and off they go...

~~

_**Thirty minutes later...** _

They make it onto the freeway out of Manhattan. Hook relaxes, studying the signs above them and watching the various cars in different lanes. The woman glances at him one more time but doesn't say anything, changing lanes to get ahead of the weekend traffic.

“So Storybrooke,” the woman starts nervously, “Funny name for a town,”

“It is quite unusual,” Hook comments, “although I think it's more a play on words,”

She looks at him oddly. “My name is Tamara, by the way,” she says, “It would be weird to refer to you as hooky or something else during the seven hour drive to Maine,”

“It's a pleasure to meet you Tamara,” he says, “Hooky is adorable but I prefer the name Killian,”

Tamara smirks. “That's funny I thought you were going to say you were James Hook from Peter Pan,” she laughs, “but the outfit is very impressive nonetheless,”

Hook looks down at his clothes and then curiously at Tamara and then grins. “Oh, you think I'm a character from a children's story,” he adds.

She shrugs, checking her dash mirror before changing lanes again. “Well, you do have a hook for a hand and despite my shock earlier when you introduced yourself, I'm pretty sure that you were about to say that you were a pirate and James Hook was a pirate,” she reasons.

“Sorry to disappoint you Tamara but I am not your world's James Hook,” he retorts. “Out of curiosity lass, what  
do you know of Hook?”

Tamara starts explaining to him the story of Peter Pan, about how the crocodile is a real crocodile, his never ending rivalry with Peter Pan, even the details of his alleged clothes which included a lot of red, long black hair and a skinny mustache.

Hook hangs his head, shaking it in annoyance. “So, in this story, my arch nemesis is an annoying boy who wears too much green and tights, flies with the help of fairy dust and I wear red from tip to tail, have long curly hair and say silly things like, 'I'm a codfish,'” he surmises, “That is the most ridiculous story I've ever heard. If I ever come across the man who wrote such lies, I'll gut him with my hook,”

“That's where you're out luck,” Tamara muses, “because he died a very long time ago and secondly, he wasn't an evil man. He sold the story to a children's hospital in London, who continue to thrive on the continuous reproductions of Peter Pan to this day,”

“But it's not a true version of events,” he protest, “They're lies Tamara!”

“I didn't write the story Killian,” she retorts.

~~

_**A Rest Stop in Connecticut** _

Hook studies the round pies in front of him as Tamara helps herself to a single slice of pizza and fries, moving down the Sbarro line. “The round things are called pizzas and the white stuff on top is mozzarella cheese, they're very good,” she says and puts a slice on his paper plate. Hook looks at her tray and likewise, picks up a box of French Fries.

Tamara looks through her purse for cash and gives the cashier a twenty, covering his food too. Hook thanks the man and proceeds to follow Tamara to a table. She sets down her food and gets them small cups for water.

“Never had pizza before?” she ventures, picking up her slice and eats a bit.

Hook imitates her actions and takes a bite. “Very impressive, extremely cheesy,” he compliments.

Tamara smiles.

“So Tamara, how close are we to Storybrooke?” he asks her.

“Well,” she hesitates, trying to quickly eat the small bit of pizza in her mouth. “It's going to take a long while until we get there. We're not traveling by airplane but my rough guess is that we will be there past dinner time,”

“And when is dinner time?” he asks, eating more of his pizza.

She hesitates again. “Like another seven hours,” she mutters.

“Seriously?” he says blankly, raising an eyebrow. “My ship sails faster than that,”

“Oh, how long did it take you to get from Storybrooke to Manhattan?” she challenges, honestly curious about his answer.

“Minutes, probably seconds,” he reasons, “but sadly, I do not have my ship which is why I require your services Tamara,” he says, “A swan stole it from me,”

“A swan, huh?” she says, “I didn't know swans could sail magical ships,”

“This one is a particularly clever girl; she's bested me more than once now but she will pay for this betrayal as soon as we get back to Storybrooke,”

“It's a she swan,” Tamara muses, “I bet she probably just wanted your attention,”

He shrugs. “If this swan were interested me, I think I would have figured that out by now,” he retorts, “but alas, she does not fancy me,”

“Well, good luck with your swan and your crocodile,” Tamara says, raising a thumb.

They finish the rest of their lunch in silence.

~~

_**Somewhere in New Hampshire after passing a toll booth...** _

“You really think my swan fancies me and that's why she repeatedly bests me?” he asks Tamara curiously.

She shrugs, smiling. “I don't know what your love life is like Killian, but us girls tease the guys we like,” she says. “Boys generally do the same with the opposite sex,”

He looks at her sarcastically, “I am well aware of how the sexes interact with each other Tamara,” he retorts, “I've teased my swan a lot since our first meeting but to my recollection, she's never teased me; except for hit me a lot and ties me up during the most inconvenient times,”

“Well, bondage is also another unique activity between couples who like that kind of stuff,” she manages, glancing at him and noting his hook, “although in your case, I think I get why,”

“But that doesn't mean that she likes me, does it?” he still wonders.

Tamara shrugs again. “I don't know. Have you ever asked her?” she counters.

“My swan leans towards the sarcastic; she'd probably run the other way before telling me the truth,” he admits.

Tamara sighs. “Maybe she does like you but she's too proud to admit it,” she adds, “some people are like that,”

He turns and considers his driving companion. “Do you have someone Tamara?” he asks.

“Actually I do,” she says, “You probably didn't notice the ring on my finger but I am engaged. We've been together for about three years,”

Hook frowns, leaning back in his chair again. “Sorry for stealing you away from him then,” he apologizes, “Not that I intended or expected anything romantic to come out of this...You are an attractive lady but I'm not ---”

“Don't worry about it Hook,” she cuts him off, “My favorite Disney character was Prince Eric from The Little Mermaid. He was dreamy with that jet black hair and those blue eyes of his,”

Hook arches an eyebrow. “Little Mermaid, huh?” he teases, “There's a Mermaid Lagoon in Neverland; one of them used to be an informant of mine,”

“Did she have red hair?”

“You're speaking of Ariel, Prince Eric's lass,” he recalls, “She never liked me much; thought I was a bad human but some of her sisters, they were a different story,”

Tamara smiles. “Hell, we've got another four hours to Maine,” she adds, “A story would be nice,”

_**Augusta, Maine** _

“Tamara, is it possible we can make another stop?” Hook ventures.

She shrugs. “Yeah I suppose, I could use a break from driving,” she say, pulling over to a nearby McDonald's parking lot.

As soon as they're parked, Killian darts from the car and runs towards the restaurant “Um Killian, do you want me to get you anything?” she asks, checking to see how much cash she has on her.

“No, that's all right love,” he hollers back, disappearing from sight.

~~

Tamara orders a small Ranch Snack Wrap and a McCafé Latte. By the time her order is ready, Killian exits the bathroom and joins her at a table.

“You know, we're already in Maine,” she starts and he looks at her hopefully, “We should be arriving in Storybrooke very soon, if we can find it,”

Hook raises an eyebrow again. “If we can find it?” he counters.

She shrugs. “I know a lot about different places but I've never heard about a Storybrooke, Maine but if it's a small town and probably is, it might be difficult find again,” she reasons, sipping her latte.

Hook sighs. “My ship found it,” he mutters.

“Your enchanted ship is a different story,” Tamara adds, “I'm not enchanted and I'm trying the best I can without a GPS, Killian,”

“No need for attitude love,” he cautions and removes a compass from his pocket, “You see this? It's magical. I stole it from my swan before I left in the event of an emergency; it should get us to where we need to go,”

Tamara smiles. “That's a relief,” she says and finishes the rest of her snack wrap. “Hmm, would you like some coffee?”

He looks at the beverage she's been drinking and he takes a sip. “Hmm, very hot and sweet, but very soothing, much like rum,” he says.

Tamara grins at him.

~~

Coffee is not like rum. While coffee affects people differently, it has a strange effect on Hook in that he's suddenly curious about how everything in the car works. It's amusing at first until he starts fiddling around with the radio. He only has one good hand but he quickly figures out in his heightened state that turning random dials adjusts the volume and changes stations.

A road trip from New York would not be complete with music.

Except instead of enjoying what the radio has to offer, Killian continually flips through channels and then stops once he hears voices talking. He sits back and looks oddly at the dash.

“Tamara, there's people talking inside of your carriage; I think it might be possessed,” he fears.

She laughs. “My car is not possessed Killian,” she says, “You just happened to stumble upon a talk radio like C-Span or something. Those voices are people in a studio or a newsroom,”

“How do their voices transmit to here? Is it magic?”

Tamara smiles. “Sort of. There's a lot of technical stuff involved,” she adds.

Hook shakes his head and switches the channel again, stopping on a musical station, liking the lyrics in the song.

_Please, don't take your love away from me_

_Don't take your love away from me_

_Please don't take your love away from me_

Tamara keeps her eyes on the road but can't help but feel the weight of the silence in the car and how the lyrics must connect to the pirate's heart in some way.

After Killian listens to a few more choruses, Tamara notices a lonely tear escape his blue eyes and she sighs, remembering his story before about his lost love.

“If the song bothers you, you can change it to something happier,” she suggests.

“It's all too real,” he mutters, “It's as if this song was written with me in mind,”

“Yeah,” she whispers, “She must have been someone very special,”

Hook looks at her thoughtfully, forgetting the song. “Who?” he asks.

“I don't know,” she manages, “either your swan or someone else,”

He smiles. “Milah,” he breathes, “was her name. Her eyes were beautiful like the ocean and her voice softer than a siren's song,”

Tamara pulls off to a side road and keeps on it based on a hunch. “So Milah, she's your swan?”

“No, she's a different lass but still very special,” he observes, “She's a stubborn woman, brave, but closed off from possibility – which is a big shame because she would make one hell of a pirate,”

“Sounds like you have a crush on your swan,” she teases, still following the road.

Hook ignores her comment. He does not have a crush on Emma.

“Killian, what's going on with that compass of yours?” she asks, suddenly feeling that this is the right one leading to Storybrooke.

Killian looks to the compass in his hands and to his surprise, it's pointing straight ahead of them. He looks ahead and sees a green sign Welcome to Storybrooke and grins. “We made it lass, keep straight on this road,” he cries. “There's a sign up ahead,”

Tamara glances further beyond the road but doesn't see a sign. “What are you talking about? There's no sign ahead of us,” she reasons, “You sure that compass is working?”

“It's working perfectly Tamara,” he assures her, “Just keep driving. We'll be there soon,”

~~

Tamara doesn't understand how magic works or Hook's compass for that matter but minutes later, she is driving through the quaint town of Storybrooke; which to the average outsider looks completely normal but knowing who her passenger is, this town is definitely not normal.

She parks her car down one of the side streets and Hook directs her towards Granny's diner, mostly because 1) he's hungry again and 2) on the off chance he might spot Emma catching an early dinner. Before Tamara can even walk across the street to the diner, Hook pulls her into a hug.

“Um, you're welcome,” she says, backing away from, smiling despite herself. “It's been very entertaining and educational Hook,”

“Thank you again lass for helping me; you really did not have too but thank you again for your services. It is much appreciated,” he adds.

Tamara smiles at him. “Actually, you helped me out too,” she muses, “You see, my fiancé left New York a few days ago; said he had some business to take care of and left me a message that his business would be here. So, here we are, parting ways,”

“Well, good luck finding your man Tamara,” Hook says and shakes her hand this time.

~~

“So these beans,” Neal starts, walking out of Granny's diner with Emma, coffee to go in hand, “They're supposed to help us get back to fairytale land once they're done harvesting. I thought that there weren't any left,”

Emma shrugs. “Well, Hook stole the last one from Anton before he climbed down the beanstalk after me,” she says, staring at Hook standing across the street from her and standing with Neal's fiancé of all people. “Seriously?! You have got to be kidding me?!”

Neal frowns and looks around them for anything strange and then looks straight ahead, seeing Hook standing talking friendly with his fiancé. “That's not Hook talking with my fiancé, is it? Because I swear it looks like it is but then again, I could be hallucinating,” he says flatly.

“I wish I was hallucinating too,” Emma says and then turns, as he notices her and he and Tamara walk across the street, meeting them. “What the hell, Hook?”

“It's lovely to see you too Emma,” he says.

Emma glances at Tamara and then to Hook. “It's nice to see you again Emma,” she says, shaking her hand and comes closer to Neal, kissing his cheek. “and you too honey,”

Hook looks blankly between Tamara, Hook and Emma and starts laughing. “Seriously, this could not be anymore awkward? You three know each other – and you two know each other,”

“Yeah recap, long story short, Neal is the guy and Tamara is his fiancé,” Emma clarifies, glaring at Hook, “and if the only reason you're back here Hook is to finish what you started, you're going to have to go through not only me, but David and Mary Margaret too,”

He raises a curious eyebrow. “Now, why would I need to go through your parents to get to my crocodile?” he wonders and then looks at Neal again. “You mean he's – he's Henry's father which makes Rumpelstiltskin your boys' grandfather, and you're protecting him because you're the law,”

Emma smiles at Tamara. “Thank you so much for bringing him back here Tamara. It's okay, I'll take it from here,” she says, beckoning the pirate to follow her.

Hook hangs his head. “Seriously, you don't even need to bother with cuffs this time,” he says, following her to the sheriff's station. “Bondage is not necessary, Swan; although I wouldn't complain if you...”

“Finish that sentence Hook and you'll wish that you stayed locked up in that janitor's closet in New York,”

“Yes, princess,” he seethes.

~~

Hook is seriously confused. Clearly, a lot had transpired in Storybrooke while he had been otherwise tied up in New York. Emma walks back into the sheriff's station and holds out her hand, waiting patiently for his hook. “I won't escape love,” he adds.

“I don't care,” she retorts, “Give it now Hook,”

Hook removes his hook and hands it to her. Emma takes the metal and puts in her drawer before leading to the jail cell and locking him up. “See this way, without your hook, I know you can't cause that much mischief and I can deal with crisis’s that need more attention than a pirate hell-bent on revenge,” she retorts.

“You know while we're here together, figuratively speaking since you're over there and I'm here, I want to ask you some things,” he starts.

Emma sits back on her chair, looking at him. “And what would that be Hook?” she wonders.

“Well, among other things, is my crocodile still alive?”

“Yes, next question,”

He mutters a curse under his breath. “Things seem fairly quiet around here; I trust the Cora situation has been taken care of?”

“Yes, anything else?”

“Is Rumpelstiltskin really your boys' grandfather? Maybe you slept with some other guy that looked like Neal?” he adds.

“Yes, I am fairly certain that Neal does not have a twin and yes, Gold is Henry's grandfather,” Emma retorts, “Have anymore questions because I don't think I've had enough coffee to really enjoy this,”

“You have coffee here? Can I have some?!” he asks excitedly.

“No!” Emma cries, “Is that it?”

Hook smiles, leaning against the bars. “Two more question lass, when you stole my ship, did you sleep in the captain's quarters because you know, that's mine,” he teases.

Emma stares blankly at him, debating whether to knock him unconscious while he's still close to the bars. “Guest quarters,” she says. “and the other?”

“Why did you leave me behind again?” he asks seriously.

Emma sighs and rubs her forehead. “Because it was safer, like how you were supposed to be safe staying behind in Storybrooke before you decided to follow Gold to New York to finish your vengeance. Really stupid move, Hook,” she retorts. “The only reason why I left was so...”

“You like me,” he interrupts, smiling wildly, “That Tamara woman was right about something,”

It's Emma's turn to raise an eyebrow. “Really?” she asks blankly shaking her head. “I don't know where you get your delusions Hook but I was doing you a favor by leaving with Gold to find his son, and trust me, it had nothing to do with me liking you (which I don't). So no more questions. I'm going to make a call. Can you behave yourself for five minutes?”

“I swear on my honor as a pirate, I will behave,” he says, placing his good hand over his heart.

Emma warily leaves the room and Hook sits back on the bench in his cell, grinning like a fool. My swan leans towards the sarcastic; she'd probably run the other way before telling me the truth, he remembers.

At least behind bars, he has little chance of being knocked out or bound up. And the trip with Tamara was one of the best adventures he'd had in a long time but he has a feeling, there's an even bigger adventure on the horizon and it involves a blond sheriff.

The End


End file.
